Buried Alive
by Jacky Higgins
Summary: Pie Eater dies, and his friends bury him in the city pauper's graveyard. But there's only one problem: He isn't dead... Happy Haloween!
1. Default Chapter

AN/ Disclaimer: I own only the idea. Actually, not even that. It happened to someone once (actually, it used to happen a lot, back before they had the medical technology they do now) anyway, this was written for a challenge which states: Write a scene at the grave of a Newsie. No back-story necessary, a snapshot if you will. Or something like that; that's the gist of it. Enjoy! BTW, it just occurred to me that this is being posted on Halloween. What irony, since this is a little creepy....

Graveyards in general are sad, solitary places and this one was no exception. The old, crumbling gravestones marked the final resting places of New York's poor, and the lot was ringed with tall, stately weeping willows. They hid the tiny plot of land from the bustle of the city, cutting off the graveyard and lending a quiet, solemn atmosphere to the place. It was ringed with a tall iron fence, too tall to climb over, that kept out miscreants and grave robbers.

A group of boys sat clustered around a new, untarnished gravestone. A fresh mound of dirt stretched out in front of it, as long as their friend Pie Eater had been tall. They all looked as though they had been crying, and several were holding handkerchiefs.

"He would have liked it here," Jack Kelly stated gruffly. He was gazing into a stand of trees, pointedly looking anywhere but at his friend's tear streaked faces.

Snoddy nodded, sniffling into a handkerchief, tears still pouring down his face. He had been Pie's best friend. "He always did," Snoddy sobbed. "I remember once when we..." He shook his head, unable to speak. The boys, usually not adept at showing emotion, embraced, each trying to comfort his friends.

And then, less than two feet below the surface, in a flimsy wooden coffin in that shallow grave, Pie Eater awoke with a jolt.

"I'm alive," was his first thought. Pie didn't even bother opening his eyes, he just lay there in what he thought was his bed. He was still weak and shaking, and could feel traces of the fever that was at last leaving his body. He slowly lifted one hand to his aching head... and his knuckles scraped wood. Later, Pie would swear that his heart stopped. His blood ran cold and he opened his eyes.

Everything was dark and it hit him, all of a sudden, what that meant. He began to scream, shoving at the top of what he knew now was his own coffin. His cries echoed in the tiny space, deafening him so that he felt sure someone would hear him. But no one heard, and no one came.

"How long have I been here?" He wondered. "What time is it? Where are my friends?" At this last thought, of his fellow newsies, all the family he had, Pie began to cry in spite of himself. He pushed frantically at the lid of the coffin and had nearly decided to give up and die when it moved. He stopped short, and pushed again. Sure enough, the lid was moving upward. Each time he pushed, the dirt shifted a little more above him.

Near the grave, the other newsies sat, still reflecting on their friend's brief life. As he stared at the mound of dirt, Snoddy could have sworn that it had moved.

"Hey," he said, quietly, startling his friends out of their morose silence, "Look at that. Did that just move?" The second time, they all saw it.

Pie Eater shoved frantically at the coffin, what little he could muster of his strength draining rapidly. With one last shove, the dirt flew off the grave and the coffin opened. Daylight streamed in and Pie was shocked to see his friends sitting there, staring at him. He struggled upward, flushed with fever and shaking wildly.

"Help," he gasped, "Someone, help me..." And with that he collapsed to the ground beside his own coffin...

A/N: Yeah, there are two of these. Sorry. Anyway, I kind of like this whole story idea. If you want me to write the rest in a longer one shot, review and lemme know and I'll do that. I dunno, maybe set up a second chapter or something. But a longer one wouldn't have fit the challenge so this is all for now. Hope you enjoyed.


	2. The Whole Story

A/n: Wow, I thought the first chapter kinda sucked. But hey, if you guys were wonderful enough to give me such awesome reviews... well... reviews like that definitely deserve an update. I am beyond appreciative. Here goes. This is going to be basically the whole story of the thing. It's not real long either (or at least I don't think it's gonna be) But I hope you enjoy it!

The whole mess began on a blustery day in October. As usual, Kloppman was in the bunkroom nice and early to wake the newsboys in his charge.

"Everybody up!" He called as he came into the room, fairly bouncing with his usual overflow of energy.

Snoddy rolled over in his bunk, sighing resignedly. Coffee just wasn't good for some people. But for people like himself, coffee could be just what they needed. It was the thought of a cup of that pleasing beverage that enticed him out of bed and into the washroom. He stumbled through the door, nearly colliding with Crutchy. Even wide awake, Crutchy was off-balance; half asleep he had not a prayer of staying upright, and was only saved from an untimely dunking in a tub of soapy water by Mush, who caught him and set him back on his feet. One by one, the newsies washed and dressed and made their way outside. Despite his best efforts, Snoddy was last in line for a sink and exited the washroom to find his best friend, Pie Eater, still sitting on a bunk, cradling his head in his hands.

"Pie?" Snoddy asked. "You okay?" Pie Eater just shrugged.

"I don't feel so hot."

Snoddy nodded. "In the morning, who does?" He joked, doing his best to be lighthearted.

But Pie only shook his head. "No," he said tiredly. He spoke carefully, as though it ached to talk. "I really don't feel well."

Snoddy patted his shoulder clumsily. "I hear yah," he said. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Pie Eater looked up and sighed resignedly. Snoddy reached a hand out to help him up and Pie took it. As he stood, the room whirled around him and he collapsed at Snoddy's feet.

"Hoo, boy," Snoddy said nervously. He bent over and lifted Pie back onto the bed. His friend fell backwards to the pillows, moaning softly, one hand over his face.

Snoddy felt Pie's head cautiously, and made a face. "You're pretty hot," he said. "I better go find Kloppman." He hurried to the stairs. "Kloppman!" he yelled as he reached the top. "Pie's sick!"

The old man hurried up the stairs with his usual energy, born of caffeine early in the morning. "Eh? What's this?"

"Pie's sick," Snoddy repeated. "He collapsed, and I think he has a fever."

Kloppman headed into the bunkroom. "Well, young man, what seems to be the matter?" he asked lightly as he sat on the edge of Pie's bed. But as he examined the boy, his expression sobered. "I think we'd better take you to the city hospital," he said. "Snoddy, I'll call the doctor and let him know we're coming. Then I'll hail a cab and meet you two out front. You get this boy dressed and have him out there in five minutes." He hurried out of the room.

Snoddy found Pie's clothing neatly folded under the bed. He undressed and redressed the boy gently, careful not to hurt him. He put Pie Eater's arm over his shoulders and helped him down the stairs and to the front of the building where a cab was waiting for them.

He lifted Pie into the waiting carriage and sat across from Kloppman, Pie's hot head resting on his shoulder. When they reached the hospital, two attendants were waiting for them. Snoddy and Kloppman found a place in the waiting room while a doctor examined Pie. They waited for nearly an hour, until Snoddy thought he would go crazy with worry.

At last, when the doctor came out to find them and deliver the diagnosis, Snoddy wished that he was still waiting.

"I'm afraid he has scarlet fever," the doctor said as they stood outside the room where Pie Eater lay.

"Are you sure?" Snoddy asked. Scarlet fever was practically a death sentence. It couldn't be...

But it was. After the doctor had explained everything, all of which boiled down to the fact that they were keeping Pie in the hospital, Snoddy was allowed in to see his friend. Pie lay in bed, pale and shivering.

"Pie?" Snoddy asked tentatively. Pie opened his eyes slowly and tried to smile. Snoddy returned the attempt, also failing miserably. He sat down and uncomfortably took Pie's hand. "Hey."

"Hey, Snoddy," Pie whispered.

"How yah feelin', buddy?" Snoddy asked, aware even as he said it that it was a stupid question.

"Lousy," Pie admitted. "My head hurts... and I'm so cold. I was hot a minute ago, now I'm freezing. Just can't get comfortable. It's this fever, that's what's giving me chills like that." He closed his eyes, exhausted with the effort of speaking. Snoddy looked concerned, and tucked the blankets closer around his friend.

Snoddy came back every afternoon, as soon as he was done selling, and every afternoon Pie was worse. He was delirious just days later, and the doctor informed Snoddy that he probably wouldn't survive the night.

"Mama?" Pie whispered pathetically as Snoddy entered the room. "Mama, I don't feel well."

Snoddy swallowed hard. Mama? What in the world was he going to do? He sat down, blushing and feeling foolish.

"Mama?" Pie said again, and Snoddy sighed a little.

"I'm here, hon," he said. He blushed even more deeply. It looked like he was going to have to play the part his poor friend had assigned him.

"I don't feel good, Mama."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Will you take care of me?"

"I will. Just relax, you'll be all right."

"My stomach hurts."

"I bet. Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."

"Thanks Mama. I love you."

"I love you too," Snoddy replied gruffly. Far from feeling idiotic, he was now on the verge of tears.

"Night Mama."

"Goodnight."

Snoddy sat there for several minutes, still playing the part of Pie's mama, who had died several years earlier. He finally left, as the sun sank below the rooftops. It was the last time he saw his friend alive...

Two days later, after the funeral, the newsies took the day off selling in remembrance of their friend.

"He would have liked it here," Jack Kelly stated gruffly. He was gazing into a stand of trees, pointedly looking anywhere but at his friend's tear streaked faces.

Snoddy nodded, sniffling into a handkerchief, tears still pouring down his face. "He always did," Snoddy sobbed. "I remember once when we..." He shook his head, unable to speak. The boys, usually not adept at showing emotion, embraced, each trying to comfort his friends.

And then, less than two feet below the surface, in a flimsy wooden coffin in that shallow grave, Pie Eater awoke with a jolt.

"I'm alive," was his first thought. Pie didn't even bother opening his eyes, he just lay there in what he thought was his bed. He was still weak and shaking, and could feel traces of the fever that was at last leaving his body. He slowly lifted one hand to his aching head... and his knuckles scraped wood. Later, Pie would swear that his heart stopped. His blood ran cold and he opened his eyes.

Everything was dark and it hit him, all of a sudden, what that meant. He began to scream, shoving at the top of what he knew now was his own coffin. His cries echoed in the tiny space, deafening him so that he felt sure someone would hear him. But no one heard, and no one came.

"How long have I been here?" He wondered. "What time is it? Where are my friends?" At this last thought, of his fellow newsies, all the family he had, Pie began to cry in spite of himself. He pushed frantically at the lid of the coffin and had nearly decided to give up and die when it moved. He stopped short, and pushed again. Sure enough, the lid was moving upward. Each time he pushed, the dirt shifted a little more above him.

Near the grave, the other newsies sat, still reflecting on their friend's brief life. As he stared at the mound of dirt, Snoddy could have sworn that it had moved.

"Hey," he said, quietly, startling his friends out of their morose silence, "Look at that. Did that just move?" The second time, they all saw it.

Pie Eater shoved frantically at the coffin, what little he could muster of his strength draining rapidly. With one last shove, the dirt flew off the grave and the coffin opened. Daylight streamed in and Pie was shocked to see his friends sitting there, staring at him. He struggled upward, flushed with fever and shaking wildly.

"Help," he gasped, "Someone, help me..." And with that he collapsed to the ground beside his own coffin...

General chaos reigned. After watching their 'dead' friend rise from his own grave, the boys were understandably shocked. Snoddy was the first to regain his composure, or some semblance of it. He rushed forward and sank to the ground, cradling Pie in his arms.

"Pie?" he asked, amazed and not a little frightened. "Are you alive?"

"Snoddy?" Pie asked. "I'm here. What happened? Why did you bury me?"

That pitiful statement nearly tore Snoddy's heart. "We thought you had died," he choked out, and both boys began to cry, clinging to each other.

Pie spent the next week in the hospital, finally recovering. The doctor who had signed his death certificate was fired the following day. Snoddy again came every day to visit Pie, happy to be there under circumstances so much more pleasant than before.

"You know," Pie said one day, "it's the oddest thing, but when I was sick I could swear Mama was here with me..."

Snoddy just smiled and blushed.


End file.
